


Martha Kent and the Very Pesky Time Traveler

by crazyfangirl221b



Series: A Universe Made of Stars [1]
Category: Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7887631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyfangirl221b/pseuds/crazyfangirl221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tempus goes back in time to try to kill Superman's parents. He may have underestimated them.</p>
<p>Work involves one little murder, excessive time-travel, and some violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Martha Kent and the Very Pesky Time Traveler

The first time she saw a time traveler she was five years old and playing cowboy in her parents’ backyard. He was tall with brown hair and he had a bad burn on his right shoulder, a cut that went right through his hand, and he was blinking his eyes like he had been pepper sprayed.

He pointed a gun at Martha and she kicked him in the shin. He dropped the gun and she instantly decided that it was just the prop Sherriff Martha needed.

“You’re under arrest!” She declared as she picked it up and pointed it at his gut.

Unfortunately her prisoner wasn’t very cooperative he lunged at her and her new toy fired. It made the loudest noise she ever heard and her hand stung so she dropped it and it went off again. The man doubled over in pain and made to fiddle with his belt buckle, but it was shattered and the wires were sparking.

Her mother rushed out of the house and scooped Martha up into her arms screaming about police. By the time the cops showed up the man was dead, leaving more questions than answers.

 

The second time she saw a time traveler was in her freshman year of high school. The school was in the midst of a bullying crisis so she carried pepper spray in her purse and practiced her punches. Then a man with brown hair, a burned shoulder, and a bleeding right hand appeared out of nowhere next to her locker and pulled a gun out of his holster.

“You’ll never raise him! You’ll never teach him-” His shouting was cut off by a well-aimed can of pepper spray and a kick to the groin.

He groaned and fiddled with his belt buckle and he was gone as quickly as he had appeared. Martha was nearly suspended for having pepper spray, but when her mother saw the security footage her face went white. The police reports confirmed that the man was the same one form her childhood and he had left even more questions with his second visit.

 

The third time she saw a time traveler she was in her sophomore year of college. She had moved to the library to deal with a backlog of paperwork while her roommate studied with polka music in the background. A rummage sale letter opener sliced open another envelope when a man with brown hair and a burnt shoulder appeared two tables away and drew a gun on the cute boy sitting there.

“I really must apologize for this Mr. Kent, but I really don’t like your son.” The man was calm as he cocked his gun, and Martha realized she recognized him.

She was beside him before she knew what she was doing, but while she was in position she might as well stab him with her letter opener. He screeched and fumbled his shot.

“Who--?” He gasped like he couldn’t believe someone had dared interfere.

“The name’s Martha Clark.” She gave him a ferocious grin and socked him in the jaw.

The man fiddled with his belt buckle and Martha hardly flinched when he vanished.

“Jonathan Kent.” Came a voice to her left and she looked over to see the cutie she had saved.

“Nice to meet you,” She shook his hand and he looked at her like she hung the moon.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” He seemed startled, like he hadn’t meant to speak.

“Yes I would.”

Campus police turned to regular police turned to FBI, and they made their statements and tried to answer a decade and a half of questions. They were finally released after midnight and dinner turned into pancakes at an all-night diner. He made her laugh and he didn’t know what to make of her, so they exchanged phone numbers and promises to call.

 

The fourth time she saw a time traveler, or at least that particular one, it was the week after Jonathan and her had found out that they were unable to have biological children. A man with brown hair appeared in her yard. She looked out her window to see him holding a green rock and standing over another man. She grabbed the shotgun from over the fireplace and the shells from under the sink. Loading the gun, she rushed to the door and fired.

She didn’t hit him of course; she _had_ aimed over his head. What she was trying to do was get him startled and distracted. It worked. The man in the red cape rolled away from the traveler and _flew_. Martha stood openmouthed as the caped man shot beams of light from his eyes to the traveler’s shoulder.

“I’ll just keep going back, Superman.” The traveler hissed. “I can do this until the end of time.” The traveler fiddled with his belt buckle and disappeared, as he always had before.

The man called Superman screamed and dove towards the empty space he had left.

“I have to stop him.” He whispered, then looked at Martha. “Remember this day. Please, someday this will make sense to you, but I need you to remember this day.”

“Time travel isn’t as common as you might think.” Martha said hefting her gun. “And it’s never good news.”

Superman looked shocked, but was quickly distracted by a short man with glasses running out from behind the barn.

“Quickly, you left too quickly.” He insisted. “You need to get back right now!”

“He went after my m-. He went after Martha, HG.” Superman looked like he was trying not to let her know what she had figured out long ago.

“Yes, yes, yes.” HG replied. “She told me.” Superman looked like he was in shock, but this served to make him pliable enough to allow HG to take him back behind the barn.

She heard an indistinct rumble of machinery, and didn’t even bother to investigate. She put away the gun and thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have to do any paperwork this time.

 

The last time, or the first, that this particular time traveler appeared in Martha’s life was many years after this. She was older, and her adopted son was already grown, saving people in ways only he could. It was a quiet afternoon and Clark was home for the weekend when a man with brown hair appeared in her yard.

“Tempus!” Clark growled. “What are you doing here?”

“I finally figured it out,” the man called Tempus said with a disturbingly charming smile. “Your one true weakness is family.”

Clark changed into his costume as he was speaking and rushed forward to stop him but Tempus just pulled out a chunk of Kryptonite. Superman screamed in pain and Martha was struck with an incredible sense of déjà vu. She heard the indistinct rumble of machinery and saw a short man with glasses sitting in a strange contraption.

Tempus apparently knew the man, because he fiddled with his belt buckle and both he and her son disappeared. The man started forward but a word from Martha stopped him.

“Time travel again?” She asked him with a calmness that only comes from years of experience.

“Why yes, but how? Oh of course, you’ve already seen the end of this.” He seemed more than willing to answer her questions, but first she would answer some of his.

“Based on his injuries, he will be shot with Clark’s laser vision thirty years ago, stabbed with my letter opener nearly forty years ago, pepper sprayed forty-five years ago, and shot twice and killed a good decade before that.” Martha gave him the cliff-notes version. “I’ve got the date for that first one written down in my scrapbook. Clark got himself stranded way back then and he needs you to pick him up.”

“Tempus _dies_?” HG Wells asked, focusing on entirely the wrong part of the story.

“Yes, I was five years old and I killed a man,” Martha said dismissively. “Now are you going to get my son or not?”

“Of course,” He replied and hopped back into his time machine as she handed him the slip of paper she had written the date on.

When he returned Clark stared at her like he couldn’t believe what had happened.

“How were we supposed to know about time travel?” Martha asked with a shrug. “We just blamed everything on drugs and twins and aliens. This is the first time you’ve mentioned _time travel_ to us.”

Clark looked appropriately sheepish at this, but did _not_ promise to keep his parents informed of his vigilantics. Still, no one died but the bad guy and Martha considered it a win.


End file.
